


heat sink

by PreludeInZ



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Children, Gen, Illness, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3839632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreludeInZ/pseuds/PreludeInZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little boys get colds sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heat sink

Seven boys before him, she’d done this at least seven times. Had the others ever seemed so little, though? It wasn’t just that he was the youngest, he was definitely smaller than the rest of her boys had been, at this age. Four. Four was fun. She’d always loved four. Four was bright eyes and earnestness and the realization that he could  _help_. That there was nothing that made him puff up prouder of himself, than fetching her a book from a shelf, or holding the door open while she carried in the groceries, or clumsily folding socks for his big brothers.

Four was not particularly fun at the moment. He was small enough still that curled up against her hip, with his head resting against her ribcage, she could feel the rattle of his breathing in his chest. And when he coughed it was too big and too loud for him, left him breathless and glassy-eyed. He’d cried about it at first, whined that his throat hurt and sniffled into her shoulder, but now he didn’t even have the energy for that. He dropped off to sleep, now and again, but would cough himself awake with a whimper and a sweaty little hand pawing at her arm, until she moved her hand to rub her knuckles across his back.

Usually there was no catching him, once he’d gotten loose. You could wrangle him into a hug, snatch him up and steal kisses, but he would squirm and wiggle and protest. She took a selfish delight in pinning his arms to his sides between her knees, and fussing over him, slicking down cowlicks and rubbing smudges of dirt off his nose, while he huffed and puffed and protested. He tolerated the kisses, though.

Four was a little old for croup. Croup was a frightening, barking cough that usually made babies sound like seals. None of her other boys had ever come down with it past the age of three, but then, he  _was_  small.

She pushed her fingers through his hair, all tawny and blond and darkened with slick feverish sweat. He radiated heat like it was being sunk into him from somewhere. She knew little boys and she knew fevers, and this one was due to break by morning. Hopefully. “How’re ya feelin’, boss?”

“Mmm. M'sick. Ma. Mama. M'sick.” Then just a little cough, a ragged little thing, the price he paid for answering. A shuddery little sigh. “I don’t wanna. Bein’ sick.”

“I know, hon. I’m sorry. You’re gonna beat it, though. Just you tough it out, baby. You’re my big strong boy, and you’re gonna beat the crap outta this dumb little cold. Right?”

“Mm'right. Got to see the doctor. S'got medicine, didn’t he gimme the medicine? Mama? ‘posed t'get better.”

She squeezed his shoulders, then pulled him into her lap and let him rest his head against her collarbone. “This is one of those little ol’ colds that doesn’t have a medicine, babe. It’ll get better soon. You’re my tough little guy. My good little boy, best helper. Right? Getcha back on your feet in no time.”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, ma.” He sighed, and closed his eyes. Something seemed to settle inside him, and he let out another big, shaky breath. It didn’t seem to rattle in his airway quite so much, not this time. Sometimes that was just what happened. “Ain’t little. Cold’s little. M'big. M’ _bigger_.”

She smiled, kissed his forehead. “Sure are, baby. Big brave boy. You tell that cold.” He was sleeping now. Again. Hopefully this time for keeps. They’d been sitting up for hours now, and soon the sun would be up, and she’d have to drop him at daycare so she could go to work. “My big brave boy,” she murmured again, and closed her eyes.


End file.
